Attaboy Charles
by PaddysGal
Summary: In which Erik wishes he were never born and Charles thinks there must be some easier way for him to get his wings. Cherik
1. Once Upon A Midnight Clear

Attaboy Charles

In which Erik wishes he were never born and Charles thinks there must be some easier way for him to get his wings.

Chapter 1 – Once Upon a Midnight Clear

**"**Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?"

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><p>Erik Lehnsherr would say that he was an average man with a rather average life. That is, until a babbling angel quite literally dropped at his feet and ruined everything. This said angel would then take over his life and then his heart, and it all started with a small wish that he had never been born.<p>

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><p>Erik did not like surprises. Of course, being the adopted father of five made it nearly impossible to live through at least one peaceful day.<p>

A shout of "Daddy!" as a small force collided with his stomach was what woke him up that morning. The man bit back a loud curse as he groaned. A series of giggles alerted Erik that he was surrounded.

"Yes, Angel?" His remark seemed a bit wheezy to his ears, but the young girl obviously did not register or care about her father's current state.

Angel, a six-year old Afro-Latino with too-big eyes that she liked to use to her advantage, was currently plopped on his chest with her legs tucked under her. As his only daughter, Erik was proud to admit that he spoiled her rotten. Of course, this could be said about all of his children. Her hair was falling from the short, messy pigtails she insisted that she sleep in. Lips pursed, she had a determined air to her that made Erik want to pull the covers back over his head and ignore whatever conversation was about to follow.

"Christmas is in two days," the girl stated, and the look she gave him made him wonder what hidden question there was.

"Yes…?" Erik trailed off at her suddenly bright grin.

"And Sean was wondering if we could open a few presents early."

"Nu uh!" Sean protested, stamping his foot. "It was Alex's idea!" He pointed at the boy in question, who scoffed.

"Says who, Carrot Top?" Alex crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue, which Sean mirrored. Erik withheld a sigh. Those two would be at it for hours.

Sean was an eight-year old red-head with freckles splattered across his skin. He talked in a level that had everyone else around him clutching their ears from the sheer volume and, when he was upset, he would go into a decibel that he was sure would hurt a dog's ears. Erik had sent him to the doctor to get his hearing checked on many occasions, but so far nothing was wrong. Without the volume control problem, he was normally a sweet child, who was always eager to please. That is, until Alex came into the equation.

Apparently, Alex and Sean could not decide if they were best friends or bitter enemies. Erik could not tell which would be worse. Alex, a blond nine-year old, liked to boast about how strong he was, but would tail after you like a lost puppy when he thought that he was in trouble. The boy was too mischievous for his own good, and would often drag Sean into his half-brained schemes that would often end in either time-outs or groundings. So, that was the downside of the two being tight as two peas in a pod. The duo being enemies, though, would not be much better. When they were mad at each other, they would never stop arguing until Erik _made _them sort it out. The man remembered one instance where the two had been shouting at each other from rooms at opposite sides of the house, with the doors shut.

"No, you can't open any of your presents early," Erik answered Angel's inquiry. _Especially considering that I haven't finished buying all of them, _he thought with remorse. They were not poor by any means, but as a single father with five growing children, it was often hard to scrounge up enough money for all the gifts. Only with the check he was going to be receiving that morning from work was he going to be able to afford everything. At least the kids never asked for anything extravagant, and his sister, Emma, was always happy to lead a helping hand.

His denial caused the three to sigh and he also heard groans coming from the other side of the door. Breaking into a grin, he swept Angel into his arms and pressed a light kiss to his nose, making her giggle. "Are your brothers at the door?" he asked in a whisper. She nodded in reply, and he playfully tugged at one of the pigtails. "Why don't we go get them then?"

He placed the girl down and let her throw open the door to reveal two boys with sheepish smiles. She tackled them into hugs, causing them to relax. At least, until they saw their father standing over them.

"Boys," Erik started, crossing his arms. "What did I say about asking to open the presents?"

"To not to?" Darwin supplied, rubbing the back of his neck as he smiled hopefully.

Unable to stay mad at his children for long, even if it was fake anger, Erik ruffled the boy's hair with a chuckle. Darwin turned his smile up at him. Darwin was a fourteen-year old African-American, and the oldest of the children. He was the reason of the group, and was a great help to Erik in calming the kids down.

Standing next to him, wringing his hands, was the resident worrywart, Hank. Hank was twelve, with dark brown hair and an intellect that could rival all of his teachers'. It made meet-the-teacher nights very awkward, when they proceeded to tell him that Hank had corrected something they had done, again. He was often the center of Alex and Sean's pranks, which made him worry even more.

"Is Miss Emma coming over to watch us again today?" Hank asked, shuffling his feet.

"You know I would be here if I could, kid, but I've got to work again today. I'll be off on Christmas, though, alright?" Hank nodded to show that he understood, but his lip wobbled a bit. Erik patted the boy's back and pushed him toward the stairs. "Alright, off to the kitchen with you lot. Time for some breakfast."

The gang trampled down the stairs like a starving herd of elephants, causing the man to shake his head fondly. The followed at a much slower pace and entered the kitchen to find everyone at their respective seats, with silverware and napkins already set out.

His sister must be here already.

"Hello, Emma," he called as he walked towards the coffee machine, not even bothering to check if she was really there.

"Hey little brother," she replied as she strutted into the room. Erik bit back a sigh at her flashy behavior. He understood that she was a model, but did she have to walk like everywhere was a runway? She placed a steaming cup of coffee in his hands, and suddenly all was forgiven. How could he ever hate his fantastic sister? "And don't worry about breakfast; I've got it. You just go on and get ready."

"Thanks, Emma," he replied through mouthfuls of coffee. Once he had downed it, he rushed up the stairs to take a quick shower.

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><p>Westchester Accounting was hell wrapped in pure evil. Erik had never wanted to work there, much less own the place. His father had oh-so-graciously placed the building into his unwilling hands, and here he was all these years later. He had wanted to go to college, but instead he was stuck in Westchester County. Of course, if he had went to college, he would not have his family, so maybe small sacrifices were not that bad.<p>

On top of the resentment Erik held for the company, his coworkers were so incompetent that it was a surprise they still had customers at all. Todd Tolansky, Tabitha Smith, Lance Alvers, and Remy LeBeau were all put on this Earth to make Erik's life a living hell, and it was working. The lot was sloppy, unorganized, loud, obnoxious and, most of all, rude. Yet, he had yet to fire any of them. No, it was not because Erik secretly enjoyed their presence. That's ridiculous. Well, he had not fired most of them anyways. Cain Marko had become too much to handle, but the man had scared off one too many customers and Erik would not stand for that. The rest of the coworkers seemed happy he was gone.

Moira MacTaggert was a god-sent angel from above. Though he never uttered these exact words, Erik was fairly certain the woman knew how important she was. She always reminded him when his lunch break was, as he would often become wrapped up in his work. She would tell him his appointments, reprimand the workers for him, lend him an ear when he needed to rant, and babysit his children whenever he needed a break from life. Yes, Moira MacTaggert was an angel in every sense of the word. Today, sadly, she would be the bearer of bad news.

A knock at the door made Erik jerk in surprise. He scowled down at the ruined signature on the paperwork he had been signing, but simply pushed it to the side. "Come in," he called, calming himself. It would not do well for him to blow up on his workers.

"Mr. Lehnsherr, there's someone here to see you," Moira announced as she poked her head through the door. The lack of informalities showed that the guest was important, making Erik freeze up momentarily. He was not expecting anyone today… or at least he hoped he was not.

"Let him in." Erik waved his hand to gesture for the woman to open the door. Moira winced slightly and his eyes widened in realization. No, not him, not today…

"Hello, Erik." A tall, brown-haired man appeared in the doorway, a cocky smirk in place. Erik had to bite back a growl at the sight of him. Moira quickly left when she saw the frustrated spark in his eyes, knowing that the room would soon become a warzone.

"Hello, Shaw. Now get out of my office." Erik attempted to act civil, he really did, but just the man's presence set him on edge. Not to mention his idiotic lackey, Janos Quested, had trailed in after him, looking lost. While Erik and Shaw's relationship was tense, to say the least, Janos's total devotion to the devil (see: Shaw) had always made the man want to bang his head against the nearest blunt object.

Sebastian Shaw was the head of the local bank and had made it his life goal to buy out the Lehnsherr's small business. He and Erik's father had always hated each other. When his father had died, Shaw had almost had the business in his greedy little fingers, but Erik had snatched it out from under him. So, the hatred had passed down to the next generation. The man was fine with this arrangement, as it gave him more time to yell at the man who had always rubbed him the wrong way.

"Erik, Erik, Erik, we must work on your hospitality. I hope you do not act that way around your customers."

Erik only scowled in response. "What do you want Shaw? And try to make it quick, I have much more important things to do today besides dealing with your antics."

"Oh, no doubt," Shaw soothed, trying to sound sympathetic. There was no way Erik was going to buy that one for a second. "I was just wondering if you wanted to sell me this little eyesore yet."

Erik growled. "For the thousandth time, you are not getting this company. You would have to pry it from my cold, dead fingers before I would ever hand it over to you."

"Oh, I'm sure that can be arranged, Erik." Smirking, Shaw slinked back out of the room, Janos tailing after him.

After a few minutes, Moira was back in the doorway. "The coast is clear," she informed him. With that, Erik relaxed. He hated the man's random visits; they always left him with a terrible taste in his mouth.

"Need a pillow to yell into?" Moira questioned, only half joking. She was now fully in the room and shut the door softly behind her.

Erik shook his head. "No, I'm not going to let him get the best of me." He just needed to relax. Today, he would pay the rent on the building, and then use the leftover money to buy the rest of the presents for his children. After that, he would go home and spend a pleasant evening with his family.

The brunette smiled. "Good, you don't deserve to stress over guys like him."

Just then, Lance slammed the door open. Guys like him, however…

"Boss, we have a slight problem."

Oh God, just what he needed to hear. "What is it Lance?" he groaned, just wanting this day to end before he killed someone with the paperweight on his desk.

Lance actually looked worried. That was never a good sign. "Well, you see… the thing is…"

"Out with it, Alvers." Erik groaned, not in the mood for the teen's games.

"We can't find the money."

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><p>Welcome to Paddys's Christmas Story Extravaganza! I hope you all enjoy your stay!<p>

If you didn't notice, or know, my little fanfic is based on the play 'It's A Wonderful Life". My family recently saw it at our local theater, and this is what popped into my head. Darn you internet. Look at what you have done to me! *shakes fist*

As always, please tell me if you see any typos. ;D


	2. Blue Christmas

Attaboy Charles

In which Erik wishes he were never born and Charles thinks there must be some easier way for him to get his wings.

Chapter 2 – Blue Christmas

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><p>"I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent." - Taylor Caldwell<p>

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><p>"We can't find the money."<p>

Erik's face remained neutral. "You want to run that by me again?"

Lance was wringing his hands together. "We can't find the money." Right, that's what he thought he heard.

The German was across the room before anyone could even blink. Looming over the long-haired teen, he was quite the sight to see. While always a bit scary, the man was downright terrifying to observe when infuriated. "Who had it last?" he demanded, eyes narrowed. He could swear he saw red.

"R-remy," Lance stuttered, sweating slightly.

"You gave _Remy _the money!" Erik roared, causing the teen to flinch. They all knew not to ever give Remy any money. He was a great kid, but he had a major gambling problem. Before he knew it, all his money would be spent, and he might just use _other _funds.

"REMY!" he called, and the young man was instantly in his office.

"I didn't spend it, I swear!" The man tried to save his good name.

"Then where is it?" Erik growled, past the point of trying to remain calm.

"I don't know, OK?"

"No, not OK! We need that money LeBeau! The payment is due today! We don't pay, that we are out of business! We don't pay that, I quite possibly get thrown in jail! I am _not _going to jail, damn it!"

Remy tripped backwards a few steps from the intensity in the man's eyes. "I know that!" he shouted back. "You think I went and lost everything on purpose! NO!" Taking deep breathes, he schooled his face into a determined expression. "I had it this morning, carried it in with the mail. Then, Shaw walked in, and I did the normal boasting routine. Showed him the newspaper and how your son was in it, said your family was better than anything he could ever have. Next thing I know, the money's gone."

"Wait wait wait, you talked to Shaw before you lost the money? Are you for sure that was the last thing you did?"

Remy nodded. "One-hundred percent."

"Gottverdammt!" Erik cursed as he slammed his fist onto the desk. Everyone in the room jumped. "That…that bastard!" he cursed, hitting the desk again for good measure. "It's not enough that he killed my mother and got no jail time for it, he has to go and steal my money too!"

Moira winced, and everyone else just seemed confused. During a drunken rage on the anniversary of her death, Erik revealed to her that Shaw had been the drunk driver who had killed his mother in a hit and run accident. The man had bribed his way out of all charges, and the police had dropped the case. It was all swept under the rug and the town would put the accident in the back of their minds. Erik only knew because he had caught a glimpse of the driver through the car's window before he blacked out. It was hard to forget the face of the man you hated, so the boy had recognized him automatically. It had tortured Erik was the rest of his life, making him hate the man even more.

The woman inched towards the man, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll fix this," she promised. "Until then, maybe you should hide out somewhere. I'll make sure your kids are taken care of."

Erik shook his head. "No, no, I'll go to court. I'm not going to abandon my children when they need me." With that, he stalked out of the office, ignoring the shouts from Moira to "come back and talk about this, you idiot". The wide eyed stares from his coworkers showed that they had heard everything. He paid them no heed as he let the front door of the building shut behind him with a bang.

Walking half-mindedly for God knew how long, he did not realize he had wandered into the park until he ran into a bench. Well, that would do. Not caring in the slightest how it looked, he slumped onto the seat like he had not rested in hours. He might not have; Erik had no idea how long he had stumbled around the town.

"What am I going to do?" Erik groaned and roughly rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The pond in front of him held no answers. Luckily, the park was empty, which was perfect for thinking out loud… and hearing the police easily when they showed up. Throwing his head back to glare up at the sky, the man yelled, "A sign would be really great right about now!"

He probably should have reworded his request, or maybe not said anything to the heavens at all, because, apparently, they had a nasty sense of humor.

"WOAH!" A man, that had definitely not been there a second ago, tripped and fell sprawled over the German's lap. Erik immediately pushed him onto the ground, more of a reflex than anything. The man let out an "oof" as he hit the dirt. He sat there, legs at odd angles, rubbing his head with a hurt expression.

Jumping up, ready for a fight if necessary, Erik examined the stranger. The man was smaller than him, in both physique and height. His hair was a dark brown that slicked back at his bangs, but his fall had caused a few strands to fall into his face. He was wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches and brown slacks. With eyes an unnatural shade of blue, the man just had this kicked puppy dog look to him. It made Erik almost feel bad about pushing his to the ground, key work being almost.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Erik growled, not in the mood for drunks toppling over themselves right now.

The man laughed, a strike against him in the drunk-off-his-ass category. "Sorry." He grinned up at him, still on the ground. "I guess I just haven't gotten my land legs."

_Yep, he's drunk. I don't have time for this. _Erik started for the exit of the park, and hopefully another hiding spot, ready to put the encounter behind him.

"Wait, please! I need to watch after you!" The man pleaded to his turned back.

That caused Erik to stop. "You need to what?" He attempted to sound annoyed, but the tone sounded more curious than anything.

"Watch after you, you're my charge, you see." The man looked proud at the end of his statement, like he did not sound like an escaped insane asylum victim.

"What are you, my guardian angel?" Erik laughed at the thought. If he had a guardian angel, he would not be in this mess.

The smaller man softly smiled. "Yes, actually, that's exactly what I am."

"OK, stop it. Go home and sleep off whatever drunken stupor you're under right now." Erik was no longer amused. He was going to be arrested any minute now, and his last words were going to be exchanged with his "guardian angel". Brilliant.

"I'm serious, my friend."

"I'm not your 'friend', alright? Now, get away from me." Erik growled the last part, fists clenched. He had to get home. He had to tell the kids how sorry he was. He had to…

"You seem troubled, my fr-" The other man managed to cut himself, not wanting to anger the man any more than he already had.

Erik had to laugh at that, albeit darkly. "Troubled? Yes, I do seem a bit troubled, don't I? Well, sorry if I'm not a big ball of sunshine when I'm watching for the police." He sighed and slumped his shoulders. "I wish I was never born; then there would be someone else to deal with all these problems." Of course he didn't wish this. As soon as the words left his lips, he wished he could take them back. He would never want to leave his life, his family, his children.

The other man perked up. "If I did that would you believe me?" he questioned, entire demeanor brightening. At least one of them was happy.

"Did what?" Erik asked, more for the shorter man's sake than for his own curiosity

"Make it so you were never born. If I did that, would you believe me?" He looked so hopeful, it was ridiculous. This man had to be insane.

Erik shook his head in exasperation. "Fine, Gabriel, if you can somehow make it so I was never born, I will believe you are an angel."

"Charles," the other inputted.

Erik blinked. "What?"

"My name is Charles," the brunet finally introduced.

"Erik." It was only for formalities. It was common courtesy. He was a bit worried that a crazy man now knew his name, though.

"I know, Erik. I know everything about you."

"I'm going to ignore how insanely creepy that is," Erik sighed. "So, what, you snap and I was never born."

Charles smiled. "That's the gist of it."

Erik shrugged, not caring about how the "angel" was going to use his "magic". "Alright, go for it, I guess."

The other brunet nodded sharply and, without a second word, snapped his fingers. Erik could have sworn snapping was not that loud, nor did it echo through his ears with such ferocity that he feared he would go deaf.

Shaking off the ache in his eardrums, Erik started again for the exit, this time at a much faster pace. "Well, that was fun, but I've got to get home to say my final goodbyes."

"Erik, wait!" Charles called after him, but the German ignored him. Checking over his shoulder at the gate, he found that the other was not following him. Glad with small successes, Erik hurried to his home. Thankfully, it was only a few blocks from the park. He arrived on the front doorstep within ten minutes. He was surprised to find that none of the people that he ran by tried to stop him. Even if they were not going to turn him in, his neighbors were gossips, and would often stop him for a conversation on his way home from work every day. The same neighbors now stared after him in confusion. It was almost as if they had never seen him before.

Reaching for the doorknob, Erik was ready to face his family. A hand on his shoulder stopped him. He was pulled back roughly. He whipped around to face Charles, without a hint of sweat or fatigue to show that he had chased after him.

"You can't just walk in there!" Charles shouted in panic.

Erik raised an eyebrow. "I live here. I can do whatever I want."

The shorter man groaned. "I don't think you understand, Erik. You don't exist anymore. This is no longer your home."

"Let's test that theory," Erik stated, annoyed that he was not being left alone. He thought that relenting to the man's fantasies would get him to go away. Apparently not. It seemed that he would just have to slam the door in his face and lock it behind him.

Erik reached out and rang the doorbell, indulging the other. Maybe when he saw one of this children opening the door, he would leave. Imagine his surprise when one of his children was not who answered the door. It was not his sister either.

A man who Erik guessed was in his early thirties with dark brown hair and sideburns that nearly took over his entire face opened the door. There was a cigarette in his hand, and the smoke wafted out of the entryway. He scowled as he took a drag.

"Who the fuck are you?" Erik deadpanned, irritated with everything life threw at him today and not wanting to deal with a stranger in his house on top of that. (He briefly checked the mailbox out of the corner of his eye to see if he had the right house, just in case.)

"Logan, the hell you want?" Logan took another drag.

Erik wanted to strangle the man. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean, 'what am I doing here'? I live here dumbass. Have been for the past three years. Now get the fuck off my property before I call the cops for harassment."

Oh, Erik would give him harassment. The German pulled back his fist, ready to punch the man clear into next week. A hand enclosed around his fist and held him back, firmly and gently at the same time. It was like some stupid paradox. Erik dropped his hand and let himself be led away from the door.

"Go fuck yourselves!" he heard Logan call after them before the front door was slammed shut. Erik growled in response, though only Charles heard it. The two walked away from the house and down the street leading back to the park. Charles hummed, and it was then that Erik realized they were still holding hands. He did not let go, because it was cold outside damn it.

"Well, do you believe me now?"


End file.
